


In the Eyes of the Dying

by orphan_account



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Nazi Germany, Angst, Concentration Camps, Desperation, Drama, Hurt, Imprisonment, M/M, Passion, Protectiveness, Romance, Segregation, Slow Burn, War, World War II, lgbt history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 03:14:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11546322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Quite simply he was born in the wrong place at the wrong time. Blonde haired, blue eyed, Alfons could have been a treasure in Hitler's Youth. Instead he fell in love with a Frenchman named Edward and doomed the both of them to suffer at the Treblinka Death Camp.





	In the Eyes of the Dying

**Author's Note:**

> Fabulous readers,
> 
> I'm soooooo excited to share this with you. After careful consideration, I have decided to unearth this puppy and post it on the internet. The original idea of it was fleshed out and intended to be a roleplay. When my partner dropped it I really wanted to see it be continued so I just revamped it into my own thing and it sort of developed into it's own monster.

It started with a stare, just a stare. A sweaty brow, deep, brooding eyes, and a clenched fist, unwavering as it gripped the trigger of a gun. Beer steins clattered, but the silence soon broke with the sound of a single shot being fired into the air. Silence ensued, followed by the slow shock as men gathered in a beer hall

It started with one man with his eccentric ideas, radical behavior, and the willpower to fight for the country that he so cared for. His drive, elegance, speech, and the gumption to dare to push the government into action impressed Germany and so they let him into their hearts, into their heads. He was everywhere, and soon he rose to tyrannical power.

Alfons was only a young adolescence when Adolf Hitler first showed this aggressive nature. At the time of the Beer Hall Putsch he was showed to prison for treason and held there for a number of months while Germans spoke openly about his bold behavior. At the time he did not understand the full spectrum of their discussions. He only knew that Hitler wanted what was best for the country and he would fight appropriately for it, regardless of the cost. To him, he seemed a hero, but only for a short while. At least until he grew into an adult, until he grew into a world that soon became comfortable with the idea of another Great War. Or at least they seemed to grow comfortable with fighting.

War was so unnecessary. It was overfilled with tears, blood, mud, ash, filth, on and on. So much wasted thanks to nonsensical man and his convoluted mindset. Not even greed ruled this war as it usually did, but rather it seemed that one man ruled the war and his full intention was to simply make the world suffer. He wanted world domination, but he did not want the world for himself, but rather wanted to build with the idea of perfection in mind. The second great war, or World War II as it has infamously been named, was a particular one bred from anger, fear, and utter hatred, a fear fueled by lies and righteousness.

No one would dare call Adolf Hitler a tyrant, not at the time anyway; no one would call him a crazed murderer, any sooner than they would deny their loyalty to him; no one had the clarity to say or think so, not in Germany, not after all he had done to pull the country out of its depression. The quiet, perhaps more reasonable appearing men seemed to be the worst of them all. Like a sickness beginning in a small wound.

Any upright German citizen would have followed this brilliant man to the very end and many did. Alfons, foolish Alfons had once believed in Hitler or at least feared him enough to know when to stand up and when to step quietly into the crowd. He was hardly the hero that his peers made him out to be, rather he was a simple man who dreamed of science and enlightenment for the way of man was not trapped on the earth soaked in blood. Man always belonged amongst the stars, and he was revered for that thinking rather than repented. For once in his life he was recognized and appreciated. How dangerous.

He had every reason to join the Nazis when he had. He was the epitome of Hitler's valued race. He was a strong, bright, young man with blue eyes and hair as blond as pale sweet corn. Alfons was under the impression that he stood a chance; that his appearance would negate any negative attention towards him. For a while, he was proud of his decision, like fighting for his country made a difference in the grand scheme of things. Like things would work out in the end.

What a hypocrite, declaring himself part of Nazi Germany while taking the thought of his beautiful male lover to bed each night in secret. Of course reality caught up with he who thought he could get away with it all, and now he was trapped. What was worse even still was that he had caused his dear lover so much pain for his arrogant, stupid mistake.

Poor Edward and poor, naive Alfons: two men branded as sodomizers and thrown away in the mud with the jews, the gypsies, and the other homosexuals. Like caged animals, they awaited their death, living each day not knowing if it would be their last, never knowing if they would wake up in the morning.

All he had was Edward, those eyes, that beautiful hair although it had long since faded and grown painfully dull, amber eyes filled with broken dreams and hair like faded gold. He should have just kept Edward and nothing else, now he feared he would lose that which he held so dear. He was so sorry, but he never could bring himself to say it to that spitfire of a writer that he had come to love so much.

He was sitting in the compound after a long day's work, scrunched up on the cold, earthen floor with his thin knees pulled up to his bony ribcage. He was leaning his chin his hands as he stared absentmindedly at Edward. At least they had somehow managed to stay together by some strange miracle. For that he was grateful. If it had not been for Edward, he would have surely passed away long ago, buried and and burned with the rest of the poor, unnamed carcasses, casualties of this stupid war.

It was about as quiet as death in the old, dirty area where hundreds of men were forced to sleep. For a long while all Alfons could focus on was the harsh, raspy sound of breathing that emanated from the man lying next to him. Al wasn't even sure if Edward was awake even. His eyes were opened, but the sound coming from past his cracked lips made it seem as though he were fast asleep.

The sound at least was comforting to Alfons; it meant that Edward was alive. So many nights had passed by, haunting Alfons with nightmares and terrorizing thoughts that Edward would slip away from him. Sometimes he even forgot to sleep himself for fear of waking up next to a cold, rigid body. He slowly made it a habit to lay next to Edward with his eyes watching over him as he drifted in and out of an unsteady sleep.

As the rest of the walking corpses filed into the compound and trudged to their respective spots, Al watched Edward's eyes blink slowly. His eyelashes were still so long, like a doll's. Some things about him hadn't changed, though most of him was hardly recognizable anymore.

Slowly the other turned his head from his stationary spot and locked gazes with Alfons. He made no facial expressions, no attempt to speak, or even move for that matter, but rather he lay perfectly still with his amber eyes fixed on Alfons's blue ones.

Edward's face had once been full and rugged. His jawline was like fine art sculpted into marble, his nose was sharp, and his lips were thin, with a cupid's bow made to perfection. His face was worn now, sunken in, resembling the shape of his skull rather than showing the structure of his face. His skin had grown pasty, wrinkled, and broken.

His eyes often reflected the fire in his soul, the inspiration in his his mind, but day after day they had dimmed until they were vacant orbs of deep amber in color. Alfons could see nothing in them but the sad memories of what had come to pass in the short years of their relationship together.

The younger of the two men, Alfons's own blue eyes began to flutter as his mind pulled on him to sleep. He could feel himself losing grip on reality as he lay there and stared at Edward. He had nothing in his life but the memories that the two had shared together. That was often what he chose to look back on as a form of hope, or even a form of entertainment if only to distract his worried mind from the nagging presence of death whose breath was constantly upon his neck.


End file.
